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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25294984">Attempts</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity'>stateofintegrity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MASH (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:08:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,089</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25294984</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Klinger and Charles both seek to escape the 4077th in their signature ways.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Attempts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“It won’t work, you know. Your newfound celebrity. Why continue to make a fool of yourself with no gain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forgot, too often, that there was a steel core beneath Klinger’s corsets and trailing skirts, just as he forgot - and then was viscerally reminded - how gracefully the man could move. He did so now, his grace seemingly borrowed from the ballet, his steps precise as they carried him to Winchester’s side. “Major, you ever think that it’s not me you’re talking to?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was that look actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>pitying</span>
  </em>
  <span>? He chose to pretend otherwise. “All that background stuff that reporter didn’t want to hear - you really think I don’t know why you said it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do please enlighten me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t like it, but here goes: your family’s not good to you. They’ve probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>been good to you. If they were, they’dve thrown around their money and got you outta this mess the way they got your cousin out. You think if you can show them how good you are, how talented, then they’ll finally </span>
  <em>
    <span>see you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no right to speak of matters that do not concern you, that are so far beyond your understanding,” he began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger went up on his toes and kissed him. “You’re wrong about that, too. I care about you, Major, and it hurts me to see you put your head back in that noose time after time. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>talented and brilliant. You’re a lot of other great things, too, if you’d let yourself be ‘em. But it’s never going to be enough for that invisible audience you’re trying to impress.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he was gone, gracefully as always, skirts swishing prettily - even if they did not seem to be the key that would release him from Korea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>BJ looked up from his reading. “Did Klinger just kiss you on the mouth? He’s really escalating his section eight tactics lately.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charles, as the recipient of that kiss, could have told him that a section 8 had nothing to do with it. He touched his lips; the height advantage had meant that Klinger couldn’t be that forceful- but he’d made the stolen kiss count just the same. Blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of whatever was happening to him, Charles went after the Corporal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger smiled when he fell into step beside him. “Gonna chew me out about spitting on the Winchester crest? What is it anyway? A dignified clam? A lighthouse crushing its enemies?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charles made a note to remember this for his letters to Honoria; Klinger could be clever. “I think the family name can endure your ribbing,” he quipped. “And I have no wish to berate you for what was, in essence, an accurate assessment. I was trying to prove myself, something that, given my age and station, I should be well beyond.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger frowned. “Sheesh, Major, I wasn’t trying to bring you down!” His feet actually scuffed in the dirt a moment. “I just don’t want you to throw yourself away on people that aren’t watching… but maybe you were right the first time. They’re not my people to say one way or another. And nothing I’ve done has exactly gotten me a ticket home.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This had not been Charles’ intention; now they </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> felt bad. “Klinger, forget the search for escape for a moment if you would.” They had reached the other side of the compound where a stone wall wended around a space that the army corps of engineers had once intended for wells and had since abandoned. Sitting on the stone, Charles held a hand out to help Klinger reach it and ignored the bright “prring!” of energy that raced up his arm when they touched. “I followed you not because of our conversation, but because I find myself in need of further information.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger had known the Major (and his circuitous speech patterns) long enough to be able to translate. “You wanna know why I kissed you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like to find out, yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger chuckled. “You’re something else, Major. Why does </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> kiss someone else?” He saw that Charles was about to get in his own way with a bunch of irrelevant examples. He held up one hand to forestall this. “Don’t tell me about cultures or greetings or whatever. You were there. So, you tell me. Why’d I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a mad question to be presented with under sunlight - but the kiss had been mad too - mad and </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I do not know,” he said, at last, a little lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger groaned. He didn’t walk around just kissing superior officers. Why had he gone and picked the most oblivious one of the bunch? “I musta not done it right,” he decided, then, and repeated the gesture. It was harder to do in some ways - Winchester wasn’t facing him - but at least he could </span>
  <em>
    <span>reach</span>
  </em>
  <span> this time, fitting his mouth over the other man’s as if to imprint the feel of himself forever. Halfway through he decided that Winchester needed kissed a hell of a lot more often; he bent back under the Corporal’s mouth, giving total access without even realizing he was doing it. When Klinger drew back, the taller man made a sound of regret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got it now, Charles?” he asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe I have a better understanding, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?” he could hear the “but.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Max, there is a difference between understanding in theory and being competent in practice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, there sure is. But if we keep ‘practicing’ out here, we’re liable to get whistled at - and I don’t think you’re ready for all that. My tent?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have led up until this point. Far be it for me to stop you now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger smirked. This was really more license than Winchester ought to allow him, but he wasn’t about to say so. He kept leading though and the sight of Winchester sitting on his cot was well worth the risk he’d taken in the Swamp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later, holding him, Charles said, “You were wrong about one thing, mine own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? What’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Winchester crest. It is not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dignified </span>
  </em>
  <span>clam - but a recumbent one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klinger tilted his head, sensing the joke even if he didn’t understand it. “What’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Allow me to show you.” Kissing him hard enough to knock him back, Charles stretched out over him. Beneath him, Klinger decided he liked this recumbent thing pretty well. And if this was going to be his new reality, maybe he could ease off on his attempts to get out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>End! </span>
</p>
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